


Wherever you are

by StAnni



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 17:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16769908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StAnni/pseuds/StAnni
Summary: On the balcony she leans over too far, and he puts a hand, almost reflexively, on the small of her back. “Careful” he says and she looks at him, eyes wry and amused “Do you come out here often?”  she asks and he considers his answer “I’m afraid I’m not in the city much, “ he says, not lying “I’m usually out at the Manor.” to which she makes an entertained impressed face “The Manor.  Is it nice?”  and he smiles, reading her humor “It’s alright.”





	Wherever you are

She comes to him at a party he is hosting for a friend of a friend of a friend or something. It is all about appearances and he doesn’t have any other plans, so he agrees. 

Like him she is really too young for an event like this. She is in her early twenties. The crowd is older, early to late thirties. She smiles and offers him a glass of his own champagne. 

Her hands look soft and she is wearing a pale purple dress with a black belt and black boots, dark blonde curls swept up and then down to her shoulders – a beauty mark there, small, round, perfect – like a kiss. She introduces herself. “Selina Kyle” she says, offering her soft fingers for a shake, and he smiles. “Bruce Wayne” shaking them.

She raises her eyebrows – green eyes shining with humor, “Oh as in, the building.” And he nods. “ As in the building, yes.”   
She tips her head and her curls move in the breeze from the large balcony doors – the night air from the city moving gently through the penthouse. “So this is your place?” She asks, her voice innocent, too innocent. And he nods again, slipping his hands in his pockets – trying to seem more at ease than he really is, talking to a beautiful woman “It’s my place.”

She watches him, a smile on her lips, not saying a word and then looks away, to the city outside the balcony and sips the champagne. “Want to give me a tour?” she offers sweetly. He has a feeling that she doesn’t usually ask people what they want unless she already knows the answer. He offers his arm and she accepts, “Let’s go.”

On the balcony she leans over too far, and he puts a hand, almost reflexively, on the small of her back. “Careful” he says and she looks at him, eyes wry and amused “Do you come out here often?” she asks and he considers his answer “I’m afraid I’m not in the city much, “ he says, not lying “I’m usually out at the Manor.” to which she makes an entertained impressed face “The Manor. Is it nice?” and he smiles, reading her humor “It’s alright.” 

She turns against the railing and her dress moves in the rising breeze and he can see a scar, healed over but the line snaking up, on her ankle, winding to the back of her knees. The sight of the light pink line on her pale skin is intoxicating and he wonders how her skin of her calf would feel, against his open mouth. As if she can read his mind she smiles at him, a quiet smile and she taps the glass with her heel, clink. “Do you live here alone?” she asks and he looks at her, gauging “Yes. It’s just me.”   
She shakes her head and looks away with a playful sigh “I don’t believe that.” He moves a bit closer, leans against the railing himself, his back to the city. “Why not?” and she smiles “Because you’re rich. And handsome. And…you see to be nice…so far.” He looks down at the champagne glass in his hand – he hasn’t taken a sip yet – and considers her words with a smirk “There is someone, a woman, but it’s a complicated situation.” 

She narrows her eyes, green glittering in the moonlight, clearly intrigued “Complicated? That sounds dramatic. Do tell.”  
He takes a sip of the champagne and notices that the balcony has filled up a bit, the moon has come out and more guests are enjoying the sweep of moonlight, softly illuminating Gotham. He indicates with his head “Shall we go inside?”  
She glances at the people pooling out on the balcony slowly, and nods, following him through the doors and down the corridor to a quieter, more secluded side of the penthouse. There he takes her champagne glass and offers her a drink, a real drink, whiskey from a private bar. She smiles and watches him as he makes it.  
“So tell me about your girl.” She says as he slides the glass to her.

He leans against the counter on his elbows, mock-barman, and smiles at her amusement. “ Well, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself first. Do you have a guy?” And she giggles at the way he says it, which makes him smile wider – her laughter is like a bell, clear and whimsical. She shakes her head, no and then yes, and then no. He shrugs “So which one is it?”   
She tips her head again, and her curls, loosened by the wind, slips slightly free, a lone tendril dropping softly to her shoulder. He touches it, silk and she smiles. She answers him, voice quiet “There was someone, long ago, but things changed.” 

They look at each other and the sound of the party is a low din, a current underlining the moment between them. The dark gold of her curl twists softly around his thumb and forefinger and her eyes are green oceans, unreadable and still, as he stares into them. “Your hair is long.” He notes and she smiles, also done with the game “I’ll probably cut it soon” She says, gently taking his hand in hers and leaning against it with her cheek.

“I didn’t expect this” Bruce admits, which is a hard thing for him to do overall – admitting things. Selina smiles again, he has missed her smiles “Yeah” she breathes “Me neither.”


End file.
